


What You Left Behind

by SerStolas



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anger, Angst, F/M, Moving On, Post Tresspasser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerStolas/pseuds/SerStolas
Summary: Post Tresspasser - Female Lavellan deals with her emotions in regards to Solas and his grand plans.SPOILERS





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bioware owns Dragon Age

She stood quietly beside her horse, single hand resting on the saddle as she stared at the worked leather. One of the stable hands trotted up, taking the mount’s reins gently and leading Ladybones back towards the stables.

That brief moment of quiet shattered by the everyday. 

Lavellan forced herself to straighten and let her right hand drop to her side, marching determinedly towards the entrance of the main hall. With the Inquisition transitioning to a peacekeeping force, with her left hand removed, her life should be slowing down now. She’d spent almost as much time in the saddle in the past six months as when she’d been acting as Inquisitor and hunting rifts though.

In some ways she welcomed it. She drove herself too hard, drove herself to exhaustion, because then she could sleep without dreams. She could sleep without seeing images of a wolf in her mind, running along beside her through the forest and fields, nipping at her heels.

There’d been a time when she’d gladly experience the dreams: before the mirrors; before the Exalted Council; before her last meeting with Solas.

Now she only wanted Fen’Harel out of her head and out of her dreams. Love and longing had burned away to anger. 

They said you couldn’t hate someone so deeply unless you’ve loved them first. Lavellan thought right now how correct that saying was.

She heard the soft fall of her boots on the flag stones as she moved into the great hall, her eyes rising to the banners that hung from the ceiling, and the throne that sat tall at the far end. She hadn’t sat in that throne for awhile; she’d been in the saddle more than anything since the Inquisition had begun its transition. It was just as well, she’d never particularly liked sitting in that throne and judging, requirement though Josephine and Vivienne seemed to feel it was.

Josephine would be leaving for Antiva soon, and Vivienne had stayed in Val Royale, heading up a new Circle.

Lavellan glanced around and saw no one clamoring for her attention. She turned and headed past the fireplace where Varric once sat writing and into the mural filled room that Solas had once claimed. She let the wooden door slide shut behind her and found herself alone, only the sound of crows from the rookery above echoing off the walls. 

She moved to the table in the center of the room, fingers lightly brushing over the books stacked there, most of them on studies of the Fade. She wondered if she should have guessed Solas’s plans from the first, given his study. Instead she’d just found him a fascinating mage, knowing more of the fade than anything her Keeper had been able to teach her.

Instead he’d been responsible for the green tear in the sky to begin with. She was willing to lay responsibility for the mess she’d spent over a year cleaning up at Solas’s feet…and now he searched for another way to repeat his original plan.

Solas sought to recreate a world that no longer existed. He sought to tear down the Fade and in the process probably destroy the world as it was, and kill the majority, if not all, of its inhabitants. He claimed he didn’t want them to suffer until they died, but the sheer fact that he was willing to doom the world to death made his words ring hollow in her ears.

And now she hated him for it.

Zillah Lavellan had given up her place in her clan, her time, people’s lives, and literally her left arm to save the world. She wasn’t going to let the Dread Wolf undo what she’d sought to restore.

She let her gaze wander from the books to the murals on the walls: murals that Solas had spent time restoring. Some of them showed battles of a time and a place far removed from present day. Others showed creatures she couldn’t begin to identify. There was a reason Solas had been so obsessed with the past. He wanted to recreate a part of it.

Had he not learned from the past, though? He thought that he could avoid the pitfalls and mistakes the original elves had, the powers he had once locked away. Instead he’d fallen into the same trap they had: arrogance. 

She clenched her right hand, feeling frost forming on her fingertips. “I will find you, Solas, and I will stop you, somehow…I will save you from yourself if I must.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, tinged with sorrow now. “But I can never love you again.”


End file.
